golden days of peace
by morgana's mooncalf
Summary: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville return to Hogwarts after the Battle. Slightly slice-of-life.
1. Chapter 1

The English countryside, all brown and murky green, rushed past Harry's face as he stared out of the window of the Hogwarts Express. Ginny shifted beside him.

'This time last year, it was just me, Neville and Luna...that is, until the Death Eaters…' she trailed off and sighed, rubbing her palms together anxiously. 'Well, that's all behind us, I guess.'

'I'm so sorry I left you there, Gin. I had no idea...no clue of what'd happen to those who stayed at Hogwarts that year,' Harry immediately apologised. Once again, he felt guilt clench his stomach. Ginny, however, shook her head.

'It's not your fault. You know I don't blame you, not in the slightest. I was just remembering, that's all,' Ginny said, leaning into him and slinging an arm around his shoulders.

'I'm just glad of a quiet year,' Hermione said from across them. She petted Crookshanks in an almost distracted manner - Harry could tell that she was trying not to think about their escapades from previous years. 'Finally, I can focus on my studies without worrying about a crazy lunatic trying to kill my friends - speaking of, don't you two get yourselves into too much trouble. I do want a quiet year, you know,' she teasingly wagged her finger at Ron, sitting next to her, who made a vague sound of protest, and Harry.

'Hey, what about me?' Ginny asked jokingly. 'You know I can pull pranks to put Fred and George to shame.' she added, her voice catching slightly on the name. Ron bit his lip.

'To be honest…' Ron's voice was rather quiet and his eyes subdued as he stared down at the floor. 'I feel awful saying this, but I'm glad to escape the Burrow for a bit...I'm sick of Mum crying constantly, G-George not saying a word, all of it…I just wish…' He shook his head and broke off. A slightly heavy silence followed his words as Harry and Hermione shifted slightly, unsure of what to say. They hadn't lost siblings, after all.

'No, I get it. I feel the same, and I feel so bad every time I think it. ..I think it's because I...I just miss him.' Ginny's voice sounded choked, and when Harry turned to look at her he saw that her eyes were a little too bright, her lip starting to tremble.

Harry sighed slightly. They hadn't discussed Fred much, but when they did, the conversation tended to get out of control very quickly. And here, in the small carriage, with at least five hours left to go until they reached Hogwarts, there was no escape. 'I know, Gin. I know,' he murmured softly.

'I just..I don't know how we're going to manage, back at Hogwarts. Not after all this.' she said.

Harry let the silence stretch out before replying, choosing his words carefully. 'I'd been thinking the same. But then I thought, what would Professor Dumbledore have wanted me to do? Wanted us to do? He did all he could to shelter me from the knowledge that I was...I was a Horcrux,' Harry saw Hermione wince slightly at that, but pressed on, 'so that I could live a happy life for as long as possible. When it was all over, when I finally defeated Voldemort, he wouldn't have wanted me to throw it all away.' Hermione nodded, seeming unable to speak.

'You'll get through this, Gin; we all will. Honestly, I wasn't sure how me, Hermione and Harry'd cope either, seeing as we were on the run for a whole year.' Ron said, eyeing Ginny in case she objected to his use of her nickname. It was a testament to how shattered they all were that she ignored it.

'We've all wondered, Ginny. But we're here. And we can get through it.' Hermione added reassuringly, following Ron's train of thought.

'Yeah, I'm sure you're right. I'm just being silly,' Ginny sighed, rubbing at her eyes. 'Let's not talk about this anymore, I don't want to keep dwelling on the damn past.'

Harry looked sideways at Ginny. She seemed strained, tired. He badly wanted to cheer her up. 'I don't know about you, but I'm hungry!' he proclaimed. 'I love Molly's food, but it's been so long since we last ate that I think my toes are about to drop off.' He grinned at his girlfriend, who was so taken aback at his jaunty manner - also, toes? - that she smiled weakly back.

Hermione stretched and got up from her seat, still clutching Crookshanks. 'Well,' she began softly, 'I suppose it's up to me to locate the trolley lady?' She placed Crookshanks carefully on her seat, kissed Ron and left the carriage.

When she returned a while later - bearing cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties and assorted sweets - she wasn't alone. Luna and Neville followed her into the carriage arm in arm.

'Hiya,' Neville said. He looked drawn - like all of them, really, if Harry cared to think about it - but was grinning all the same. A round of greetings followed, and the carriage was soon filled with a warm atmosphere as the friends ate and talked of the days to come.

'I wonder who our new Defence teacher will be?' Neville mused, tapping his feet on the ground as he spoke.

'At least we know they probably don't want to kill you, Harry,' Ron joked.

'Maybe Professor McGonagall hired an Auror,' Hermione suggested practically, entwining her fingers with Ron's as she spoke.

'Weren't they all in league with Voldemort?' Harry asked. 'Although...I guess there's got to be

some good ones.'

Luna shrugged from her seat in the corner. She'd mostly just sat and watched them talk since she'd arrived, Harry noticed. There was an almost hungry look in her large pale eyes, as if she was drinking in every moment.

'Hey, Luna,' Harry called, endeavouring to keep his voice light, 'How's your dad?'

'Oh, he's certainly been better,' Luna replied vaguely. 'But he's not as bad as he was. You know, me getting kidnapped really shook him. I'm sure all will be well, in the end. It always is.' She frowned. 'Is George doing alright?'

As Ron replied, Harry leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. Letting the conversation drift over him, he wondered what Hogwarts would look like now. He supposed it wouldn't take long for several trained wizards to repair it using magic, but the wrecked state that he'd last seen the castle was so ingrained into his memory that part of him struggled to believe it was possible.

He tried not to think about the Resurrection Stone that he knew was somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, probably buried under dirt and mulch.

Shaking himself sharply out of his reverie, he returned to staring out of the window, listening to the others' conversations - which had turned to speculating upon McGonagall's possible staffing choices - and watching the blurred shapes streak past the windows as the sky darkened and the train travelled closer and closer to its destination.


	2. Chapter 2

When the Hogwarts Express pulled to a stop, the sky outside the train window was dark and spattered with stars. The air was bitingly cold, and Luna pulled her coat tighter around her as she stepped out of the carriage. She smiled slightly to herself as she watched Harry draw Ginny closer as the couple walked ahead, leading the group to the carriages.

Luna had known ever since she'd first met the pair that they'd end up together one day. Love tended to cling to people, and whenever she'd seen them together, she could almost see the love in each of them reaching out like it was a living thing. She'd been surprised they couldn't feel each other's love tugging at their skin like claws, or maybe the tendrils of some plant. Nobody seemed to have such tendrils reaching out to her, she thought, but maybe it'd happen someday. Besides, she had friends, finally, and sometimes that was all anyone needed.

Her breath fogged the air as she walked along the ground, which was hard with frost. Her attention turned to the Hogwarts Thestrals, which were becoming visible through the mist and gloom of the night.

The sight of the familiar leathery skin and strange, milky white eyes that almost seemed to glow in the gloom made her heart lift. She'd been able to see them from her first day at Hogwarts, and had found them rather charming, if a little odd. But, as her father had always said, the best people were. With some effort, she wrenched her thoughts from her father - she found it difficult not to worry about him, lately - and focused on her friends instead.

Unlike her, they didn't seem too pleased to see the Thestrals. Ron practically gasped, his face paling under his many freckles, before exclaiming, '_Those_ are the Thestrals? Blimey, Harry, you've been able to see them all this time? They're horrible!' Harry just shrugged in response.

'They're really not all that bad, Ronald,' Luna commented as they climbed into the nearest carriage.

'They really freaked me out, too, when I first saw them,' Neville told Ron reassuringly. 'You get used to it.' Hermione just shivered slightly and contented herself with staring out of the window as their carriage trundled on.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Luna was so overwhelmed by the familiar sights and sounds of Hogwarts Castle - a place that she'd almost thought she'd never see again when she was trapped in Malfoy Manor's truly awful basement - that she could barely focus on where she was going. The lights dazzled her, the portraits on the walls watched the students with an air of visible contentment, and the walls stood strong and looked so worn and old that it was as if they had never been damaged at all.

As McGonagall gave her first speech as Headmistress of Hogwarts, Luna's attention drifted all around the vast Hall. She was sure the speech was very good, really, but she preferred to soak in the effect of her Headmistresses' words than to actually listen to them. Anyway, she couldn't help her wandering attention.

The candles cast soft lights on everybody's faces as they listened attentively, and even the enchanted ceiling, now starry like the sky outside, glowed with life and light. For a lot of the students, returning was bittersweet, she could tell; but, overall, a palpable feeling of relief and contentment filled the room, and she basked in its warmth.

Later, when Luna lay awake in her dorm at Ravenclaw Tower, she found herself pondering the ceiling.

How did it work? Why did it seem more alive today?

Did it rely on the collective energy of the Castle's inhabitants?

Maybe the relief everyone felt at finally being able to push aside worries of Death Eaters had somehow given it more energy?

Thinking about the mechanics of the castle was better than thinking about the Battle, which had only taken place months before. Or her father, who really had suffered during her horrible imprisonment (which she also decidedly wasn't thinking about).

Maybe she should paint a Blibbering Humdinger tomorrow, to send to him. Yes, she thought, her paintings always seemed to cheer him up. If only she had the paint…Luna thought as she drifted off.

Opening her sleep-heavy eyes the next morning, Luna thought for a split second that she was back in the cellar at Malfoy Manor. She could almost smell the rancid scent of human suffering, a sharp tang she could taste at the back of her throat, and see the grime staining the old stone walls.

But then she blinked and took several deep breaths, her fingers curling in on her palm so that her nails pierced her skin. Luna realised that the material surrounding her was that of the dark blue hangings of her four-poster bed at Hogwarts, not the dirty stone walls of the horrible basement, and sighed. Before she could change her mind, she quickly pulled back the hangings and sat up, looking around the room - which, thank goodness, was empty of Death Eaters and her fellow Ravenclaws alike - and rubbing her fingers over her palm to try and feel more grounded (but did she ever?).

Luna swung her legs back and forth before standing up and walking to the centre of the circular room. What had she been planning to do yesterday? Oh, make a painting for her father. That was it. But that would take a while. And she wanted to make sure her father was okay as soon as possible…

Of course.

Pulling out the wand that Mr. Ollivander had made for her, which she'd kept close by since the War, she cried, '_Expecto Patronum!'_

The silver rabbit came into being in front of her, blinking its large doe-eyes and twitching its nose. Luna greeted it with a smile. It had kept her company in her worst moments; she'd conjured it when poor Mr. Ollivander was being tortured by Voldemort, as Luna tried not to hear his screams echoing through the cellar. She'd hoped that, just maybe, some of the light and warmth could reach through the walls and soothe him in the midst of all that pain.

'Could you please send a message to my father?' Luna began, pushing her memories aside. 'His name is Xenophilius Lovegood, and he's at our house at Ottery St. Catchpole.'

She took another deep breath, then said, 'Hi, Daddy. Hogwarts looks great, it's been all fixed. It's lovely to be back, but I miss you. How are you?' She shook her head slightly - she mustn't sound too worried about him. 'Have you caught any Plimpies? I thought maybe Harry vanquishing Dark Magic from Hogwarts might bring them back - I'll check the Black Lake today. I suppose the merfolk would know; if only I could speak Mermish. Apparently Professor Dumbledore could.'

_Talk about things that aren't linked to the War, Luna!_ she berated herself. She'd only mentioned Professor Dumbledore because she'd remembered the mermaids singing at his funeral; she'd been fascinated by their strange music. 'I haven't had any classes yet, so I get to talk to my friends all weekend. Maybe Ginny will come looking for Plimpies with me. Anyway, I have to eat breakfast now, so I'll talk to you later. Bye!' Luna finished brightly, flicking her wand to end the message. Her rabbit Patronus hopped out of the window, leaving a trail of silver sparks in its wake.

Luna wondered if her father would even be awake to get her message. Lately, he'd been staying up all night and sleeping through the morning, and it had sometimes taken her best efforts to wake him up. Sometimes he had good days, and he'd be up even before her. Even then, she wasn't sure whether he'd woken early or just never slept.

She shook her head, dragging her gaze from the window. Almost absently, she pulled her robes on, tucked her wand behind her ear for safe-keeping and began to make her way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

* * *

A.N: This story is going to feature chapters from multiple points of view, as I thought I'd be interesting to explore how other characters from the gold and silver trios coped after the War. Harry is the main character, but in-between his chapters will be ones written from other perspectives - in this one, I chose to focus on Luna. She was fun to write, and I hope I did her justice! :)

P.S - reviews are very much welcome! ;)


	3. Chapter 3

_The Great Hall was filled with bodies. Still, lifeless corpses with closed, pale faces and robes damaged by spellfire._

_Harry was floating above the scene, staring down in shock, eyes skittering over the pale faces. _

_Before he could recognise any of them, he heard a sound emanating from his left, a strange sort of sobbing that twisted at his insides. He quickly looked around, heart in his throat._

_Horror flooded Harry's stomach as he realised that the sounds came from Neville. He was leaning over what appeared to be Harry's own body. Neville's tears splashed onto Harry's robes as his shoulders shook. Ginny lay next to him, as did Ron and Hermione. Their faces were covered with grime, clothes ripped and spattered with blood and gore, and tear-tracks streaked from under their closed eyes and down their lifeless faces. _Oh, no. No, no, no….

_Harry looked around wildly. Luna lay next to her father. Fred and George. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy. Charlie. Bill. Even Professor McGonagall was pale and still._

'No!' Harry yelled, waking himself up as he did so. His heart beat so fast he thought it would burst out of his chest. His breath came in short, uncontrollable gasps, and he fought to control his breathing as his fingers clenched around the blankets.

_They're not dead, that was only a dream. _He reminded himself. _Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream._

Pulling back the hangings once his breathing had reached something resembling normalcy, he saw Neville staring at him. Glancing around, Harry saw that the hangings around Ron, Dean and Seamus' beds were still closed - they must all be asleep. 'Harry, are you alright?' Neville asked, an edge of concern to his voice.

_Damn_. He must have forgotten to use a silencing charm...

'Yeah..' Harry mumbled. 'Just...nightmares, you know.' And, before the other boy could respond, Harry changed the subject, avoiding Neville's gaze. 'So, what are you doing today? I thought I might go and talk to Hagrid later, I haven't seen him since the Battle…'

He sat without listening as Neville began to ramble, eyes staring unseeingly at the man in front of him. His mind still raced, and he hoped Neville couldn't see his hands shake. He'd thought that he was getting better, that he wasn't so affected by his nightmares these days - not that he'd thought they had stopped, he wasn't sure they ever would - he'd even become slightly annoyed at the way his friends hovered sometimes as if waiting for him to snap - but he supposed he wasn't as 'well' as he'd thought.

Once Harry thought he'd sat there for long enough to be polite, he mumbled a quick excuse - 'I told Ginny I'd meet her for breakfast, don't want to worry her,' - and practically flew past Neville, ignoring the worry in his friend's eyes, and out of the Gryffindor dorm.

Normally, he would have taken his time, stopped to look at the walls, perhaps, the familiar passageways and portraits and classrooms that filled Hogwarts Castle, his first and true home. He'd ached for it on the run from the Ministry, stared at the Marauder's Map, imagining the students going about their lives (he hadn't realised the bloody Carrows would treat the students so badly). Mostly, of course, he'd wanted to check up on Ginny, make sure she was okay. And now, he was filled with a feeling of unease so strong that he couldn't even stop to look at the paintings on the walls.

He knew he was being silly, irrational even - he thought he was over this now, too, over those breathless mornings when all he could think was _are they alive, dear Merlin let them not be dead_. Maybe his return to Hogwarts had shaken him more than he'd thought. Right now, all he needed was to see his girlfriend, prove to himself that she was still breathing.

Harry stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, eyes flicking desperately around the room. The objects of the room blurred in front of his eyes so much that it was practically a miracle that he saw Ginny's bright hair at all; he did regardless, and his heart-rate slowed as he sagged in relief.

Forcing his hands to unclench and his face to relax - _she's fine, she's fine, she's fine_ \- he strode over to where she sat at the end of the Gryffindor table. He hoped Ginny couldn't see the strain in his expression.

'Hey,' he said softly, slightly breathlessly, taking a seat next to her. She turned around abruptly, jumping slightly as if he'd wrenched her from her thoughts. Her eyes were slightly wider than usual as she smiled in greeting - even so, he could almost feel his anxieties melt away at the sight of her.

He apologised quickly, but Ginny swatted it away with a wave of her hand. 'Don't worry about it, I'm just a little...jumpy today.' She looked down for a moment. 'You know how it is.'

Harry nodded. Deciding not to pursue the subject any further - these past few months with her, he'd learned when to push it and when to just let things slide - he reached over and took a piece of toast from Ginny's plate.

'Oi!' Ginny yelped, swatting at his arm, memories momentarily forgotten. Harry smirked at her through his mouthful of toast, inwardly pleased with himself.

Now that he'd managed to prove to himself that she wasn't dead, he allowed his eyes to explore the room, drinking in the familiar sights and sounds of a morning at the Great Hall. It was usually quiet on weekend mornings - students tended to want to lie-in for as long as humanly possible on their days off, with some even coming down from their dorms after midday. Harry, on the other hand, tended to be an early riser. A habit, he supposed, that he'd learnt from the early mornings Aunt Petunia had enforced back at Privet Drive.

This morning was no exception. The Hall was nearly deserted, save for a few students who sat scattered around the room, the grey light of the morning softly illuminating their faces as they ate.

The whole thing felt very surreal. He almost wanted to pinch himself, just in case it was a dream and he was really asleep at the Burrow, or in a tent in the middle of nowhere as Ron or Hermione kept watch outside...

Ginny yawned and stretched beside him. 'What are you going to do today? I thought I might go flying later. It's been too long since I've set foot on the Hogwarts pitch.' She looked tired - she'd had dark circles under her eyes for what felt like months - but a smile lingered around her eyes.

'Oh, I don't know...' Harry said, as if he was hesitating, then grinned at her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. 'Yeah, definitely. I could do with a distraction.' Remembering what he'd told Neville earlier, he added, 'We can't go right away, though, I want to talk to Hagrid first.'

'Are you sure you don't want me to come?' Ginny asked.

'No...I have to talk to him alone. Explain myself, I guess,' Harry sighed.

Ginny nodded, a frown appearing. 'Don't you dare blame yourself, Harry.'

'I'll try,' was all that Harry could honestly reply as he turned to go.

As Harry stepped out of the Entrance Hall and began the familiar route to Hagrid's hut, all he could think about was how strange all of this was, so unreal, so unbelievable. He'd grown so much in the past year in so many ways, yet here he was, a student again.

Dust motes hung in midair, illuminated by the hazy morning light. Harry's footsteps were loud on the old stone floor of the silent courtyard, and was suddenly forcefully reminded of his solitary walk to the Forest, not so long ago -

He shook his head to dispel the memories.

_The war's over, Potter, _he hissed to himself. _Just go and talk to Hagrid, for Merlin's sake._

He was glad to reach Hagrid's hut and escape from his own thoughts. But he was also slightly scared. Would Hagrid be angry at him for faking his own death? Ginny, Ron and Hermione had repeatedly taken it in turns to assure him that, no, Hagrid was simply glad that Harry was alive, but he couldn't help but worry.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately to Hagrid's beaming face. '_Harry!'_ Hagrid exclaimed, sweeping Harry off his feet and into a huge hug. 'It's good ter see yer!' Harry, still anxious, followed the other man inside.

Before Hagrid could say anything, Harry began to speak rapidly. 'Look, Hagrid…' Harry didn't want to spoil the mood, but he had a large, seething ball of guilt in his stomach, and felt as though he had to express all he'd been thinking about for the past several months. 'I'm really sorry for, you know, faking my death...I really wanted to tell you I was alright, but I couldn't, Riddle would have killed me - ' he could feel his voice rising slightly hysterically.

'Wha-Harry!' Hagrid said, shocked. 'Of course I don' blame yer!' And he pulled Harry into another hug. Harry could feel his knees begin to buckle, but allowed himself to relax. 'It was terrible, seein' you...lying there,' Hagrid choked out, eyes slightly bright, 'But I don't blame yer one bit. I'm just relieved yer okay, Harry.'

Harry smiled weakly, feeling a definite frog in his throat. But the terrible guilt had lessened slightly, for which he was grateful. He decided that a change of topic was in order. 'How're things, Hagrid?' he asked, sitting down on the old leather sofa as Hagrid set about pouring cups of tea for both of them.

'Fine, fine. Well, Grawp was injured in the Battle, but he's doing alrigh' now. And so am I.' Hagrid said, handing Harry a steaming cup of tea. 'Ron an' Hermione, are they alrigh'?' he added.

'Yeah. Well, the Battle hit us all hard, but we're healing,' Harry said, taking a gulp of tea. 'I'm just so glad they're all alive...we lost so many people -' The faces of Remus, Tonks, and Fred swam to the front of his mind, and he batted them away, '...but I think I'd have really lost it if I'd had to face losing them. Ginny, too. It just wouldn't be right, you know?' Hagrid nodded, beetle black eyes crinkling slightly in thought, and they lapsed into a companionable silence.

After some time, Harry stood up. 'I promised I'd go flying with Gin today, I've got to go.'

Hagrid nodded and pulled him into another hug. 'Tell Ron an' Hermione ter come round soon, alrigh'? Take care o' yerself, yer hear me? Don' blame yerself for anythin'.' he said seriously.

'Thanks for everything, Hagrid,' Harry said feelingly. He felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could finally breathe. He'd relived the moment Voldemort had killed him so many damn times, and had often worried about Hagrid, who'd been forced to witness all of it.

Rubbing his eyes, he walked through the grounds of Hogwarts, towards the Quidditch pitch where he was to meet Ginny. Squinting through the glare of the sun, which had crept quite high in the sky since he'd left the castle, he could see three small figures - probably Ron, Hermione and Ginny, he thought. As he drew closer, he saw that he was right.

'Finally getting into Quidditch, Hermione?' Harry called as he approached. He saw the bushy-haired witch roll her eyes. Ron laughed.

'I wouldn't if you paid me! The dragon was bad enough,' she retorted, but smiled at him. There was something strange in her expression, something like relief. She hugged him a little too hard when he finally reached them; her hair tickled his nose, and he pulled back slightly.

Harry turned to Ginny before Hermione could say any more; her hair shone gold in the light of the sun, and her eyes were warm and pleased to see him. 'Ron and I tried to persuade her, but she said she'd rather be banned from the Library for a week,' Ginny shrugged. She kissed him on the cheek.

Taking his hand, she pulled him towards the centre of the stadium, where three brooms lay on the grass. Ron was already there and practically vibrating on the spot with excitement. 'C'mon, Harry! I'll race ya!' Harry could see Hermione's hand cover her mouth to suppress a giggle as she went to sit in the stands.

The three mounted their brooms, and were off.

The wind whistled in Harry's ears as the broom shot into the air. His hair, which had grown long over the past few months, was in his eyes, but he did not care as he urged the broom onwards, past Ron, then Ginny, twisting and turning in the air, feeling, for once in a long while, truly free…

Sitting on the rug in the common room, leaning against Ginny's legs as she sat on an armchair by the blazing fire, he found that the happiness of that moment had not yet evaporated, and was glad of it.

'Hey, Gin?' he murmured sleepily, the fire blurring into a haze of red and gold in front of him.

'Yeah?'

'I know I've said it before...but I'm so, so glad I have you.'


	4. Chapter 4

A.N: Sorry this is so overdue! Not only did I take a two-week break, but I then got sucked back into the Doctor Who fandom. Spyfall was really good, though I thought Orphan 55 was a slight step down in quality (but the mini-speech at the end was good, as well as the themes linking to said speech). Not sure how active I'll be in the future, but I'll try. I hope you enjoy this one!

* * *

The Great Hall was full of loud chatter as the students of Hogwarts ate their breakfasts. As he looked around the room, Harry noticed that the students did not appear to be sitting by house very much any more; the Hall was a riot of colour. It reminded him a little of how it had been after the Battle.

Images shoved themselves to the forefront of his mind; exhausted kids with bloodstained robes, Gryffindor's sword, gleaming in the dawn light...It almost blinded him. He blinked, hard, and the mirage was gone.

Harry shook himself, trying to focus on the present, on the kids chatting and laughing and eating, robes clean and bright, not dulled with dirt and blood and tears.

He stifled a yawn. The previous day had seen him, Ron and Hermione chatting until late in the night as Ginny caught up with her friends from the DA. It had been successful in warding off nightmares, but not in ensuring he was well-rested for a full day of classes.

Ginny nudged him, interrupting his thoughts. Harry started slightly.

'I was just asking,' she said patiently, sounding as though she'd had to repeat herself a few times, 'When do you think you'll hold Quidditch tryouts?'

'Uh…' Harry stumbled, considering. He'd received his Quidditch Captain Badge by owl with his Hogwarts letter, but hadn't paid it much thought. 'Soon? Next weekend maybe. I don't know. Why?' he said finally.

'I'm trying out,' Ginny said promptly. 'For Chaser, you nut,' she added at his questioning look.

'No, I mean why are you trying out? You know there's no chance I won't take you,' Harry said.

She smiled a little exasperatedly, but her eyes were warm with fondness. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence, but what if there's someone better than me?'

Harry had to concede her point. 'Fair enough.' He called down the table at Ron: 'Hey, Ron, are you trying out for Keeper?'

'Yeah, of course.' Ron said, grinning. 'I'm going to kick Cormac's arse.' Beside him, Hermione rolled her eyes, but snickered all the same. Harry could have sworn he saw her mouth _Confundus Charm_ at him, but she turned away before he could respond.

He huffed in amusement. Hermione joked about it sometimes - only to him - but he knew she would never tell Ron on pain of death. She loved him too much.

He turned to Ginny before she could ask - from the furrow of her brow, he knew she'd noticed, and considering she'd had to witness Ron's performance in the team two years ago, was probably putting the pieces together - and said, 'Hey, Gin, what subjects do you reckon you'll have next? I hope I don't get Potions, I don't think I can handle Slughorn fussing over me at this time in the morning.'

When Harry received his timetable - given to him by Flitwick, new Deputy Head, after breakfast - his first class was, in fact, Defense Against The Dark Arts. Well, at least he knew Hestia Jones, former Order member and new DADA teacher, probably didn't want to kill him. And since Ginny had continued on to seventh year, she'd be there, too.

The bell rang, and Harry, along with the rest of his class, filed into the DADA classroom. He took the chance to survey the room.

The curtains had been drawn open so that the morning sunshine filtered into the room; the tables were arranged so that the students sat not in rows upon rows, but groups of threes and fours.

He hoped that Hestia's teaching style would be as good as her taste in interior design.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny quickly claimed a table to themselves. Harry could have sworn he saw students moving out of their way to give them more space, but pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

Surely _his_ year group wouldn't have fallen prey to hero-worship, would they? Unless, of course, that was all Ginny's form.

When he asked her, she shrugged. 'The people in my year haven't really had the chance to get to know you as more than a symbol. Especially when you disappeared last year…'

She trailed off, eyes a little misty.

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed; Ginny smiled weakly. 'They'll come around,' she reassured him.

Their conversation was cut short as Hestia Jones entered the room. She moved to stand at the front of the class, warm eyes sweeping across the room to settle on Harry for a moment before flicking away.

He wondered if she, too, was remembering the fateful night that she and Dedalus Diggle came to take the Dursleys to safety.

'Good morning,' Hestia began, smiling at them all. 'I'm Professor Jones, and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. I know you've had a rough time of it, what with the alleged 'curse' on the position-' She paused as the students whispered amongst themselves for a moment - teachers acknowledged the curse on the position of Defence professor just as much as they had the Chamber of Secrets in second year, which was to say not at all.

With a slightly nonplussed glance at the class (well, Harry reflected, she hadn't been around for the Chamber debacle) Hestia Jones continued. 'Now, this year will be difficult, even more so that your studies have been so...interrupted. However, I've heard you're a smart group, fast learners… maybe some of you were even members of Dumbledore's Army? Don't be afraid to show off your knowledge and your skills in this class, whatever it is, wherever you learned it - unless it's illegal, of course.' She grinned a little as if she was sure that some of them knew illegal spells; Harry tried hard not to look guilty as a few students tittered nervously.

Hestia - Harry supposed he should probably call her Professor Jones now - continued on in this vein for the rest of the lesson, outlining the course content for the year and doing a basic demonstration of defense positions, some of which he already knew from the DA, and some he didn't.

All in all, he thought it was a good class, an impression that many students appeared to share from the excited buzz as he left the room. Maybe he could score an Exceeds Expectations in his DADA N.E.W.T after all, and even have fun doing it.

Next was Potions. Slughorn's jovial personality had, it seemed, not been dampened much by the war - he spoke in his usual pompous tone, bustling around the classroom and showing the class the sorts of potions they'd be covering in the following year. The only sign that he, too, had lived through the Second Wizarding War was the dark circles under his eyes that glamours had apparently been unable to lift.

He set the class to tackling the stupendously difficult Magic Replenishing Potion. As Harry was adding chopped Wormwood to his cauldron, Slughorn sidled up to him and informed him that he was perfectly welcome to rejoin the Slug Club if he wished. Harry nearly dropped his Wormwood in horror, and immediately resolved to never let himself be alone around Slughorn lest he get himself roped into that mess again.

In Transfiguration, McGonagall was back to her usual stern self, though with a slight softness to her tone as she announced at the start of class that, 'I know the War has been hard on you all, especially those who fought in the battle and those who lost loved ones. I would like you to know that, Gryffindor or not, my door is always open.' She hadn't become too soft-hearted, however, for she then proceeded to assign the class a six-foot essay on the advantages and disadvantages of transfiguring a common metal into a precious one.

After lunch, Harry had a free period. He thoroughingly intended to at least _try_ to do some of his homework - but his Transfiguration essay, due in only a few days, baffled him and he really needed Hermione's help. And she'd disappeared with Ron during the middle of lunch and Harry hadn't seen her since.

He tentatively approached the girls' staircase, hoping it wouldn't sense his approach and turn into a slide. He really wanted to avoid incurring the wrath of any Gryffindor girls.

''Mione?' he called, hoping she'd be able to hear him. When she didn't appear, he cursed under his breath. Damn that enchanted staircase. He was just gathering his resolve to attempt a Patronus when he heard somebody call his name.

'Harry?'

So Hermione hadn't been in her dorm after all.

He turned to see her emerge from the portrait hole, Ron in tow. They both had slightly rumpled clothes and Hermione's hair was messed up, as if it'd been smushed up against a wall - Harry frowned. He really didn't want to think about the implications of that and so banished it from his mind.

'I thought you were in your dorm.' He slammed his hand onto his forehead as the realisation hit him, 'I should have just used the Marauder's Map, damn it.'

He avoided Hermione's concerned gaze. Harry wished she wouldn't worry about him so much. He didn't forget simple things _that_ much of the time…Definitely not as much as he had in the early days, just after the War ended.

'Well, anyway, the stairs aren't enchanted anymore,' Hermione informed him. 'Parts of the Tower were destroyed in the Battle, and Professor McGonagall had to remove the enchantment in order for people to access it. They didn't reinstate it as they decided it wasn't necessary anymore.' Harry nodded thoughtfully as she continued. 'I'm sorry, I should have told you.'

'That's a good thing, then,' Ron said. He nudged Hermione. 'I'll be able to force you away from your books in person, rather than sending a bloody Patronus every time.' Hermione had taken to studying in her room, away from the 'rabble' (her words) that was the rest of Gryffindor house. She was, in Ron's opinion, taking her studies way too seriously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Actually, I was going to say that the enchantment was sexist and outdated, but sure. And I don't know if you two have noticed, but the staircase sometimes rejects students who would otherwise be let in - you know, students who don't always fit into the gender binary. This'll really help them a lot.'

There'd been someone like that in his muggle Primary school, Harry remembered - Dudley's gang had bullied them relentlessly. 'Actually, I hadn't noticed that, 'Mione,' Harry said thoughtfully.

She smiled knowingly at him. 'Too busy saving the world?' she asked.

He grinned a little ruefully, letting himself be swept into the chatter. 'Well, yeah. Unfortunate side effect of being the Chosen One. But, Ron, what's your excuse?'

'Falling hopelessly head over heels in love with Hermione,' he shot back. The witch in question frowned for a moment, but rolled her eyes and went along with it, giving Ron a kiss on the cheek.

'Don't you two have homework to do?' Hermione asked. 'Saving the world's great and all, but this _is_ NEWT year.'

'Well, actually…' Harry said, leading the way to a deserted table in the corner of the common room. ''Mione, I was hoping you could help me with the Transfiguration essay…'

As they went through the essay, Hermione leading them through the concepts and theories ('What do you mean, you don't remember Gamp's laws? It's basic transfiguration,') Harry hoped that the following year wouldn't drive Ron and Hermione from him, that they could find a way to maintain their friendships.

Harry managed to wrangle a seat next to the pair in Herbology. Despite his earlier broodings on the survival of their friendship, Ron and Hermione didn't treat him any differently to how they always had. They ended up laughing their heads off after a Venomous Tentacula bit the end of Ron's nose, although it eventually swelled so badly that he had to rush to the Hospital Wing in-between classes.

The rest of the day was largely uneventful, aside from when Flitwick asked Harry, Ron and Hermione to stay after Charms class.

Harry didn't know what he had been expecting, but it was not for Flitwick to approach Hermione, rub his hands together with barely suppressed curiosity, and say:

'Miss Granger, may I ask: What wards did you use? When you were fugitives, I mean.'

Hermione simply stared at him. 'How did you-?'

Flitwick waved her away. 'You must have used some sort of warding system to hide from the Death Eaters all year, Miss Granger - why, I hear You-Know-Who himself struggled to locate you! And I know you have the talent and skill to be successful with such magics - no offense intended, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley,' he added in an apologetic aside, glancing at them, 'but wards are rather difficult and I would not expect any seventh-years to be capable of mastering them aside from Miss Granger here.'

Hermione stammered a little in surprise as she rattled off the long list of wards she'd used when they were on the run. '_Salvio hexia, Protego totalum, Repello Muggletum…'_

Harry felt a slight shiver as he recalled the last time he'd heard her say the words - the cold and damp of the endless forests and caves they'd sheltered in… He glanced at Ron, and could see his own unease reflected on the other's face.

As Hermione recited the spells, her voice grew higher and higher with nervousness. Professor Flitwick, on the other hand, simply looked more and more amazed.

'I must say, Miss Granger, I am very impressed. Few of those spells are even taught at NEWT level!' He turned back to Harry and Ron. 'That all three of you managed to hide from the Death Eaters for almost a year is a great achievement - I'm sure any employers would take you. And,' he added, tapping his nose with a wink, 'If you wished to continue Dumbledore's Army this year, I think others could do well to learn from you.'

'I think that'd be up to Neville, Ginny and Luna, sir,' Harry said, trying to hide his surprise and probably failing. 'They did lead it last year, after all.'

Flitwick nodded. 'That is true…' After a pause, he added, 'Well, you may go. Thank you for telling me your trade secrets, Miss Granger,' he said, winking at Hermione.

She looked poised for flight, almost leaning on her tip-toes, and started slightly at being addressed again. 'Um - Thanks, Professor.' She nodded awkwardly and practically rushed out of the room, Harry and Ron trailing in her wake.

Harry rounded a corner, intent on catching up with Hermione, and nearly collided with her on the other side. He met her eyes and saw that they were a little too wide.

'You okay, Hermione?' he asked.

She nodded, rubbing at her eyes. 'It's silly of me, but…I couldn't help but remember the last time I used that spell. It made me feel rather like I was back there, cold and terrified and starving…' She trailed off.

'It's alright, 'Mione, I felt like that too,' Ron said reassuringly, rubbing her shoulder. Harry nodded in agreement.

They stood there for a moment, lost in memories.

Then Harry stepped forwards and hooked his arm through Hermione's.

'Come on, I'm sure you have tons of work to do. And I still haven't beaten you at Exploding Snap.'

She smiled weakly, Ron sending him a silent look of gratitude. Harry led them both back to the Common Room, where they could try and pretend that the War couldn't touch them anymore, that they were normal students again.


	5. Chapter 5

The Quidditch trials had gone fairly well, Ginny thought as she sat in The Three Broomsticks nursing a Butterbeer, Harry by her side.

She'd only had to yell at the unruly crowd to shut up once, and Harry had, likewise, only had to use his patented 'Wizarding Savior' glare (tried and tested on more than one Ministry official) to get the first-year Hufflepuffs off the pitch.

There'd even been some Slytherins hanging around, and Ginny was pretty sure they hadn't gone to spy on the enemy, gathering from their excited grins and hastily snapped pictures on Muggle cameras.

Ginny was back on the team, as Harry had assured her she would be. She was glad - she didn't think Holyhead would take her if she couldn't even get into her House team. Not that she'd really doubted her skills; but she was no stranger to moments of doubt.

She took another sip of her drink, the sweetness almost burning her throat, and glanced around. The pub was rowdy today - as the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, Ginny had almost expected it to be busier - and students milled around, drinking and chatting.

Ginny had wondered if the Hog's Head would be a better choice due to the quieter atmosphere, but Luna had told her that a lot of students were planning to go there. Anyway, she'd thought Harry would probably make things awkward with Aberforth.

Ginny sighed. With school and homework and her relationship with Harry, she hadn't really had the chance to see Luna. It'd been too long since they'd had a proper chat.

Luna had seemed to have relaxed over the past week - Ginny hoped that was a sign that her father was doing okay. Luna had seemed almost manic with worry (by her standards, at least) about leaving him on his own; Luna had confided that she thought her kidnapping was the last straw for her father's frayed nerves.

'Hey,' Ginny said aloud.

'Yeah?' Harry responded, turning to her from where he'd been frowning into his drink.

(Harry had wanted nothing better than to 'get drunk out of his mind' on Firewhiskey, but Ginny had thought it would be a bad call, especially if McGonagall had caught them; Harry had been forced to acquiesce in the face of what Hermione liked to call 'pure logic and reason')

'I haven't been able to talk to Luna lately, what with school and all. Have you?' she asked him.

'No,' he replied. 'Why, are you worried about her?'

'I just haven't had the chance to talk to her lately, that's all,' she responded with a shrug.

Harry met her worried gaze with a reassuring smile. 'I'm sure she's fine. Luna's always tougher than we think she is.' He stared into his glass for a moment. Ginny could have sworn she heard him mumble '_she's stronger than me, anyway_' but then Hannah pulled them over for a chat and the moment was gone.

As it turned out, another week passed before Ginny really had the chance to talk to Luna again, aside from smiles and rushed conversations between classes. She'd been missing some of her meals - Neville said she'd been studying in the library, which Ginny had thought was very unlike her.

But one Thursday, Luna had apparently decided to give the library a miss; she bounded up to Ginny during dinner, blonde hair flying and eyes bright.

'Ginevra! I've been looking for you,' Luna began quickly, taking Ginny's hands in hers.

'Oh hey, Luna. What's happened? Are you alright?' Ginny asked.

'I'm fine.' Luna was practically bouncing on her toes. 'I just wanted to tell you that I'm holding an art therapy session after dinner for those who want to come. I thought you might like it,' Luna said.

'Art therapy?' Ginny asked. She'd heard that St. Mungo's had memory projection therapy, in which they magically suspended the patient's memories in the room for them to analyse and process. But not art therapy. 'Is that a Muggle thing?'

Luna nodded. 'Muggle art therapists encourage their clients to express their emotions and trauma through art. I thought a lot of people here could find it useful; maybe even you. Would you like to come?' she asked, practically all in one breath.

'Is this why you've been missing meals? I was worried about you.' Ginny said.

'Oh, yes, I've been doing a lot of research.' Luna smiled in her casually disarming _don't worry about me_ way. 'So, will you come?'

Ginny could practically feel the excitement radiating off Luna, and found she couldn't say no, so she smiled and promised to meet Luna in their designated empty classroom after dinner.

When she entered, she saw that the room was already filled with about ten or so people - former DA members, mostly - including Harry, Ron and Hermione. Luna stood at the front of the room, wringing her hands as she waited for everyone to arrive.

Ginny hastily took a seat in-between Hermione and Harry. Once Luna saw that everyone was seated, she clapped her hands.

'Um, hello, everyone,' Luna began. 'I've been doing some reading over the summer, on different types of therapies - my father's ill, you see, it-' She broke off a little awkwardly, shuffled her feet and took a deep breath.

'Well, anyway, I discovered something that Muggles like to call 'art therapy'. By expressing your feelings on paper, they believe that it helps you to recover from terrible events - like the War.' Luna's eyes were bright now, a real smile in place.

'I don't need a book to tell me this, of course, because I draw very often. Being able to visualise something terrible, something you can't even say to a friend, on a piece of paper really helps you…' She trailed off for a moment as if searching for a word. 'It really gives you closure, you know?' Luna smiled at them in that dreamy way of hers.

When she got going, Ginny had observed, Luna could be quite the public speaker.

'People should be free to express themselves in whichever way they want, so I've gathered as many supplies as I could find. You can even use them all at once if you like.'

Then, without further ado, she settled into a chair at the front next to a dark-haired Slytherin girl.

The girl - who Ginny identified as Astoria Greengrass - whispered something to Luna, who giggled before picking up a pencil. She began to sketch furiously, the tip of her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration.

The assembled students looked at each other for a moment, before following Luna's lead and scrambling over to their preferred media.

Ginny followed their lead, rushing over to the tables scattered around the room and grabbing an assortment of materials - a pan of watercolours, a couple of paintbrushes and some pencils.

During the hell that was Last Year, Luna had taught Ginny some of the basics of watercolour painting, as well as figure drawing. She was still very much a beginner, but she could rough out an amateurish portrait - and, as Luna had said, the expression of emotion was what really mattered.

So she started to draw Fred and George.

She hadn't really allowed herself to think about him. Not in the early days, when her mind was screaming and her dreams offered no respite. She'd seen Harry, lying dead on the ground, his poor face horribly pale. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, who'd died so young and left a son behind.

But something in her had rebelled from even considering the fact that her brother, who laughed in the face of Voldemort, of death, could possibly be gone. She'd smothered her grief through running and flying and grieving for other people.

Sometimes, Luna had taught her, it took a pencil to draw out your feelings and put them on paper.

Ginny drew her brother's laughing face, the way it had creased at the edges. Taking out the watercolours, she filled them both in with bright colours, reds and oranges and emerald greens. Concentrating hard, she made sure to leave white spots in their eyes so that they sparkled.

The painting was amateurish, sure. But that didn't stop her from welling up a little at the sight of her two brothers laughing arm in arm.

Blinking hard, and with a slight shake of the head, she glanced around the room.

Luna, true to form, had used all of the materials available to create a masterpiece - a portrait of her mother. She smiled brightly out of the page, but there was a sort of wild ruthlessness to her eyes that Ginny wasn't sure about. She was surrounded by butterflies, done in bright markers.

Luna was already moving onto another piece - a faded watercolour of some strange feathery creature - chatting all the while to Astoria, who giggled at something Luna had said.

Ginny couldn't stop a fond smile spreading across her face at the sight.

Harry, on the other hand, had drawn a darkened cave. In the centre stood a sort of crooked basin with green light emanating from it. He'd used charcoal to create harsh, anxious lines, and a sickly green watercolour wash for the odd lighting. He didn't seem to have drawn much as a child, judging from the crooked lines of the cave and odd lighting - those bloody Dursleys - but the image practically dripped with unease.

With a jolt, Ginny recognised it as the cave that Professor Dumbledore had taken Harry in her fifth year - he'd only told her about it after she'd got him very, very drunk. She could see the tension in the lines of Harry's shoulders reflected in the jagged lines of the charcoal, and felt her stomach twist.

A muffled giggle from Hermione tore her eyes away from Harry's drawing and her mind from darker places. She appeared to have given up trying to draw, judging from the crumpled pieces of paper that littered her desk. Instead, she was laughing at a drawing of Ron's. Ron himself wasn't doing much to hide his sniggers.

'Hey, Hermione, what's Ron drawn?' Ginny whispered.

'He-he's drawn Crookshanks eating Scabbers. The stupid rat,' Hermione said. She took the drawing from Ron and passed it to Ginny.

Ron had done just that. In a sloppy, almost stick-figure style that somehow reminded Ginny of _The Adventures of Martin Miggs, The Mad Muggle_, nonetheless. Ginny snorted, the tension slipping away to leave a lightness in its place. Trust Ron to lighten the mood.

'Harry, look at what Ron's drawn.'

Harry started slightly in his seat. When he saw the drawing, something in his eyes seemed to brighten.

'Forget Luna's portraits, you're the true master. We'll have to hang your work up in the Common Room for all to see,' he said dryly.

_Thanks, Ron_, Ginny mouthed, indicating Harry with her eyes. He gave a slight nod in acknowledgement.

'No, no, true works of art like this deserve to be hung in the Entrance Hall,' he retorted, raising his eyebrows.

Ginny relaxed in her chair as the whispered banter continued.

Maybe they would be all right, in the end.

* * *

A.N: I don't really know how far I'll get with this fic, as I haven't really been in a _Harry Potter_ or a fanfic-writing mood over the past few weeks - I've been doing more fanart lately. That, and I've discovered some _Doctor Who_ (and _MCU_) fics over on AO3 that I rather like - I've also written a couple of fragments of _Doctor Who _fics that I guess I could expand and post here (or AO3, if I decide to move over there), so let me know if you want to see that here/on AO3. When/if I continue this fic I'll probably do more 'fragments'/short scenes with faster pacing (which I'd always intended to do, to be honest).

If I don't update for ages (or stop altogether) then you know why, I suppose. Sorry to disappoint anyone (I am aware that not many people actually read this, but still). Also, if you get sick of waiting for me to update, check out Annerb's stories - some of them cover life after DH, albeit in an AU.


	6. Chapter 6

Luna sat under the shade of a magnolia tree near the Great Lake. The tree was, as she'd learnt from Neville, dormant—the branches dipped in the wind, fuzzy buds bouncing along with it. She hummed under her breath. Scotland really was lovely, she thought. But springtime, that was the best, when the buds would bloom into beautiful pink flowers that she could paint or maybe stick behind an ear. Perhaps, this time, Astoria would let her braid flowers into her dark, glossy hair.

Astoria sat beside her now, head down as she scribbled something in her ever-present notebook. Her hair cascaded down her back, moving slightly in the breeze. She was extremely smart, Astoria; one day, she wanted to become a Master of Arithmancy, and would be one of the only women in her field (unless someone else beat her to it, which Luna doubted).

Glancing over Astoria's shoulder at her notes, Luna could see what looked like complex equations detailing...something about manipulating the speed of linear time? Maybe she would become a Master of Arithmancy after all - nobody knew how to manipulate the speed of linear time, not like that, according to Hermione, who'd spent the last several months preparing a paper on a similar subject. And here Astoria was, trying to find a solution. Luna thought maybe she was the smartest person she'd ever met.

'Astoria,' Luna said, pausing in her humming, 'Have you ever met Hermione Granger?'

Astoria brushed a couple of strands of hair out of her eyes, looking up. 'No, why?' she asked in her slow, cut-glass accent.

'I think maybe you're even smarter than her.' Luna said seriously. Astoria smiled, dark eyes sparkling. A slow warmth began to spread in Luna's stomach as she held her gaze.

Having a girlfriend wasn't really something that Luna was used to. Most people tended to ignore her; the few that she managed to befriend were dear to her, but her relationships with them stayed firmly in the realm of 'friendly'. Ginny had thought Luna might have a chance with Neville, but Luna had pointed out that he hadn't, as of yet, indicated any interest in romantic relationships at all.

'I mean, if you manage to actually invent the ability to control time, imagine all the things you could do! Drawing for hours on end, star-gazing...maybe even inventing more inventions! You'd be heralded as the greatest witch of the age, you know,' Luna continued. A faint blush spread across Astoria's cheeks. Good; Luna could feel herself turning into a bit of a blushing mess herself.

'Oh...I don't know about all that. I haven't even worked it out yet. I'm just thinking over some possibilities, that's all,' Astoria said. She set her notes aside, taking Luna's hands in hers. 'Come on, I could hear you humming. Do you want to plait my hair while I work?' She rubbed her fingers in slow circles over Luna's own, seeming to think something over. 'Or...I could really do with a break. Why don't we go for a walk around the castle, together?'

'Yes, please!' Luna said, smiling. 'I've been wanting to go to the Forbidden Forest...I know it's forbidden and all, but there's some interesting plant samples I wanted to get for my father, and I thought I could study some of them too.'

'Sounds like a date,' Astoria said with a grin. She stood up, carefully placing her notebook in a bag. She held out a hand to Luna, who took it, bouncing up with enthusiasm after having been seated for so long.

Luna swung her arms slightly as they walked, making their clasped hands move backwards and forwards; Astoria joined in, swinging her arm with her. The wind blew lazily through the Hogwarts grounds, ruffling Luna's hair. A couple of students were scattered around on the grass, in groups of two or three, studying or talking or laughing. It made Luna's heart lift to be here, with Astoria, in amongst so much happiness and so much healing. She didn't think she could take anywhere near full credit of course, but a part of her hoped that the art therapy sessions were helping.

They were held once every two weeks, now, and the numbers of members increased every time. McGonagall had even suggested that if any more students joined, they might need to move them to a bigger room. And the students seemed to enjoy it, too; whatever emotions they needed to unload during a session, they all seemed to feel lighter at the end. Some of them even liked to burn their pieces after completing them; they claimed it was 'cathartic' and 'symbolic' (Luna wondered if they'd been talking to Hermione—though Luna hadn't _seen_ her burn any of her drawings, they disappeared with an alarming regularity all the same).

'Why does your father want plants that can be only gathered from the Forbidden Forest?' Astoria asked softly, turning her head to look at Luna. Stray strands of hair framed her long, slender face, drifting in the wind.

'He wants to try making tinctures with healing and mood-lifting properties. He hasn't really...done anything like that before, so I don't know how well it'll go, but...I think it's a sign that he's getting better? I hope it is, anyway,' Luna said, looking away. Astoria pressed herself into Luna's side comfortingly, and they continued to walk in silence.

When they finally located the clearing where the plants were supposedly located, quite some time had passed. So much so, in fact, that Astoria commented that they might be late for dinner, soon. She didn't seem to mind so much, though; Luna had noticed that she'd become more willing to break the rules, lately.

'Ah, found it!' Luna crowed, holding up a bundle of leaves in triumph. Astoria was at her side in an instant.

'Well, they certainly look unusual,' Astoria said, peering at the plants, a small furrow between her eyebrows. She looked up at Luna.

'Yes, my father says one of the few places that they can be found is in the Forbidden Forest. Nobody knows why, but he suspects that it has something to do with the energy of the Forbidden Forest; it's _full_ of magical energy,' Luna said, waving her hands a bit as she talked.

Astoria smiled. 'I love it when you get all passionate about a subject,' she said, leaning in to kiss Luna. She tasted like...dusk, today, Luna thought, all indigo skies and roses and cicadas buzzing. So Luna kissed her back, in order to taste her better.

The plants lay on the stump of a tree, momentarily forgotten, as Astoria placed a cool hand on Luna's cheek, wrapping the other into her pale hair, and drew her closer still.

They broke apart after a beat, foreheads pressed together, gazing into each other's eyes. Astoria's were deep, dark pools; Luna would dive into them any day of the week, even drown, if it meant they would never leave her face.

Luna pulled Astoria into an embrace, and like that they remained for what felt like a single moment but must have been a long time, for Astoria broke apart when she was sure they'd start to be missed back at Hogwarts, when the world around them was alight with the chatter of creatures of the dark, little fireflies transporting them into a world of their own, together and alone.

And Luna was sure that, if Astoria did manage to master the art of manipulating linear time, she'd have spun the moment out into hours and hours of peaceful stillness, when the pressures of school and a post-War world disappeared and it was just the two of them, enjoying each other's company.

* * *

After seeing the kind reviews made by a guest, I decided to write another chapter. I hope you like femslash. :) I don't know what possessed me to begin writing a fic that would span over such a large length of time - I'd originally meant to basically have it as a collection of one-shots from their Seventh Year, but I set the pace wrong with the first several chapters chronologically too close together. Also, I'm a lesbian, so I don't know why I decided to write a mostly-canon fic since there are basically no living LGBT+ characters at this point in canon. So I decided to make Luna and Astoria a couple, and write a short chapter with the pair of them. :) I think they're quite sweet together.

I might reupload 'golden days' to AO3 (where I've been writing some Doctor Who one-shots lately) as a one-shot collection instead of a single fic; what do you think? I've been far less engaged in the Harry Potter fandom lately, so uploads would be far less consistent, but I might post every so often (especially femslash).


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